


A Week In Summer

by ScutManycoats



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Beach House, But he does mean well, But it's there, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hanzo doesn't think he deserves nice things, Jesse dissagrees, Lets see shall we?, M/M, Maybe 90 percent fluff to 10 percent angst, Maybe it wasn't a great idea to date your brother's ex?, Maybe it wasn't a great idea to date your ex's brother?, My First AO3 Post, OK there's only one chapter with sex, Overwatch Family, Secret Relationship, Summer Skins!, Summer Vacation, There's a little sex, brothers being brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScutManycoats/pseuds/ScutManycoats
Summary: Much of the Overwatch team simply can’t get a break, so Morrison arranged a big beach house so a job on the American east-coast doesn’t get in the way of a Forth of July barbecue. It should be a great time for everyone, but . . . Hanzo’s finding it hard to enjoy himself.It’s supposed to be he and his lovely Cowboy’s dating anniversary – and where better a place to celebrate than on a beautiful beach – but it’s been a year and he still hasn’t gotten the courage to let that secret out. Not even to Genji. While Hanzo would rather keep this all to himself, Jesse McCree would happily shout it from the rooftops that he’s dating the most beautiful sniper he’s ever seen! But as a loving boyfriend, Jesse knows better than to push his luck. After all, is there ever a good time to tell your brother you’re dating his ex?Will they let their secret out –hang the consequences!– or just spend a quiet vacation with the team and let their secret romance slip unnoticed another year?





	1. In which Hanzo doesn't know how to take it easy, and misses his man

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy my first ever posted fanfic!
> 
> If anyone wants a little background sound to set the mood, I recommend playing this in the background:  
> [What the marsh in SC sounds like,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wua2tULh84)  
> Or if you want something to musically set the tone:  
> ["Miriam By The Sea"](https://youtu.be/_YQXMErssns)  
> It's not really designed to be looped, but it's what felt right while writing.  
>   
>   
> [There's a line in here directly inspired by this wonderful comic by Vimeddiee, I love their art so much,](http://vimeddiee.tumblr.com/post/147655820946/i-like-to-think-that-hanzos-sultry-eyes-are)

The air hung heavy around him as he walked across the dock. Hanzo squinted against the angled light of the sun rising above the edges of the trees. Though still early in the morning, the thick blanket of humidity was hot, and tinged with the smell of marsh mud and sea salt. After only a few minuets, Hanzo felt sweat beading on his back under the thin wind-breaker he wore to protect his arms from the sun and the scrape of the tall grass. Everywhere insect chittered and droned. They were hidden in the sea of marsh grasses that stretched almost to the horizon. The grey-green carpet was only broken by islands of dark scrub bushes and hearty trees, or the lonely white corpses of trees that could not survive the seawater leaking into the marshlands. These were what Hanzo liked best.

He could see their skeletal forms reaching up past the edge of the grass. The bark had long since been blasted away, and the wood bleached white like the ancient remnants of shattered bone. Walking past them in his hike to his monitoring station, he ran his hands over their surface. The wood was smooth, swirled with patterns of decay and burls that looked almost like painted waves. He had been considering taking a piece with him back to his little apartment at the Watchpoint. 

The old grey dock ended, and Hanzo continued across the wetlands on a single narrow board hammered into old poles. The boards creaked and bowed as he followed the path. From the added weight of his backpack the boards sometimes sunk down into the mud. The narrow path was all that was left of the rest of the old dock before it had been torn up by a hurricane several years back. It was a fifteen minuet hike out to the islands in the marsh. 

By the time Hanzo reached the crosp of trees, sweat was starting to run in rivlets down his neck and chest. In the shadow under the trees, his make-shift monitoring station stood waiting. It was a deer-blind of three polls and a platform, but it allowed him to survey the area from among the spatter of thin pines, their growth stunted by the marsh like clusters of neglected bonsais. He stepped off the boards onto hard ground, pine needles muffling the sound of his boots, and climbed to his perch, sliding under the curtain of mosquito netting. 

Up among the sparse branches he could feel the sea breeze cooling his face and neck. With a turn of his head he could take in almost the entirety of the marsh. To his right he could just make out the edges of the residents, beach houses clustered together as close to the marsh as they dared. From so far away they looked like a crest of teeth on the horizon. To his left was the mouth of the bay, and on its very tip the single spire of a lonely light-house silhouetted against the sky. It was the same one that had stood there almost a century before, somehow unscathed from the many storms that battered this coast, and the Omnic crisis more recently. In front of him, though, was the more rewarding sight; a wide belt of cobalt blue against the horizon, his glimpse of the sea.

Once he shrugged off his quiver and jacket it was almost pleasant on his perch. The simple stretched tarp cover blocked out the sun, and the breeze was constant now that he was above the level of the distant sand dunes. Hanzo pulled off his thin tank top, using it to wipe the sweat off his muscled chest and down the dragon tattoo along his thick arms. He was still acclimating to the oppressive heat and humidity of the low country. 

He sat cross-legged with his backpack in his lap, carefully arranging his equipment around him as he unpacked them onto the narrow platform. He placed around him his bow; several small drones, a little wider than his palm; his com-link and tablet to interact with said drones; some extra bug-spray since he always sweated it off during the morning; and finally his breakfast. It only took a few taps on the tablet to wake the drones, once he pulled back the mosquito netting he sent them whirring softly off over the marsh on a pre-programmed flight path. 

The little grey drones glided off gracefully weaving past the pine branches, save for one that didn’t seem quite able to dodge them in time. Hanzo squinted after it as it veered a little off from its path, scattering a few pine needles in its wake. He would have to check later, but he was pretty sure that was the same one that had fallen into the mud the first day he’d sent them out. 

He propped up the screen so he could watch the data coming in from each drone. Over the past week they had been gathering a three-dimensional image of a metal form buried several feet under the mud. So far they had only found the barest edge of it and were slowly working there way around. The sensors on the drones had to be small to fly, and were weak; they could do their job, but it took a lot of time.

With a yawn, Hanzo settled his back against one of the polls and opened his thermos of chilled tea, pouring himself a cup as he gazed out over the marsh. Despite the heat, and the bugs, and the hike, he was really coming to enjoy this morning routine. It was a shame it would only last another week at most. 

He closed his eyes a moment, absorbing the constant buzz of insect noise. It reminded him of long gone summers back home, when he was much younger, sitting on his grandmother’s porch. Back when he could dangle his legs over the edge of the porch and his feet couldn’t reach the ground . . . 

His com-link vibrated beside his knee, he picked it up surprised to be receiving a call from headquarters, he usually only got a typed message in the evening concerning any updates he sent over the day. He hooked the comlink over his ear.

“Agent Hanzo.” He said in his usual brusque tone. 

“Good morning, Mr. Shimada,” Winston’s voice rumbled from the other side of the world, “I was calling about a little change in plans.” Hanzo listened as a hint of embarrassment leaked into the gorilla’s voice. He always found it amusing that a non human sapient could have such human tells. 

Winston cleared his throat, “McCree has completed one of his assignments earlier than scheduled and Soldier 76 suggested he might rendezvous at your location to save him having to travel back and fourth with the rest of the team, he’s only six hours drive from your location now and if he returned to base it would be eight hour flight just one way – I apologize for the sudden change, I hope you don’t find this inconvenient?” 

Hanzo wondered why Winston would bother asking him, if the order came from Morrison that was all that needed to be said. “It is the most logical solution,” He replied.

“So there’s no objection?” Winston prompted.

Hanzo rubbed sweat from his eyes, “There is more than enough room at the house.”

“Oh good – Jack mentioned you asked for a few days off, I assumed that he sent you ahead so you could have the beach-house to yourself.” Winston said, “I didn’t want to break any previous agreement.” 

Hanzo suppressed a sigh, realizing why Winston had been gracious, “No, my request couldn’t be accommodated; I simply volunteered to take care of securing the house in preparation for the teams’ arrival.”

“From what I’ve been seeing, it looks like you’re doing a great deal more than that.” Winston chuckled through the com. Hanzo glanced over to where the drones were slowly moving across the surface of the marsh.

“I needed a task to occupy my time,” he said, “securing the perimeter took considerably less time than expected.” 

“Still learning how to relax, I see.” Winston joked. It caught Hanzo by surprise, he couldn’t remember their strike commander make even a light jab at him.

“Inactivity is not something I’m familiar with,” The archer answered. His voice must have come off as too dry and apathetic because Winston cleared his throat nervously and moved the conversation along. 

“What can you tell me about this Omnic ruins you’re measuring?”

“It’s still too early to tell with any cerinty,” Hanzo said, he had to squint at the tablet screen to see the map the drones were forming. He rubbed the sweat from his neck and looked over at the area that was being surveyed. A vast swath of mash without a single bush or tree, not even a remnant of deadwood. “But as of right now, it looks to be enormous.” 

________________ 

When evening arrived the colors across the sky shifted from rich shades of blue to a mesmerizing spectrum of coral pinks, and soft lavenders. Hanzo stepped onto the back porch of the beach house to watch the last of the sunset, toweling his hair dry after his shower. The place that Morrison had found for the mission was remote enough he didn’t feel the slightest hesitation standing out on the covered porch in his boxers. The cooling air felt good against his skin, and under the ceiling fans it was surprisingly comfortable. 

Hanzo sat on a daybed, hanging from the ceiling of the covered porch by thick rope. It creaked and swayed gently as he settled against the pillows, laying across it with his prosthetic legs crossed at the ankle. This was his favorite spot. It permitted him a full view of the marsh while still being in the shadow of the house throughout the day. And more surprising of all, he had come to find the subtle sway of the bed soothing. He had expected it to trigger his motion sickness, it had so distinctly reminded him of being at sea. Instead it had been strangely comforting. Hanzo had fallen asleep unintentionally there after the first exhausting night of work, and after that had spent every night curled up there, soothed to sleep by the night noise and the barely decipherable sway of the hanging bed. 

Hanzo observed with almost detached fascination the fact that just a few months ago he wouldn’t have dared sleep out in the open, so exposed to any potential assassin. He wondered if he was growing complacent. Though, as he reminded himself, it had been almost ten years since he left the Shimada-gumi and four since he had any confrontation with an actual assassin. Could the remnants of his old yakuza family even afford to send an assassin anymore? 

No, it was more than that. His ease came from a growing trust for the strange team that made up Overwatch. They would not have sent one of their own unprepared, wouldn’t have given them inadequate tools, would never leave them exposed. Overwatch didn’t betray their own to be slaughtered by their enemies, they didn’t strand them just to punish insolence, they didn’t demand they kill their own kin to prove loyalty . . . and the archer was one of them now, though at times he had trouble believing it. Overwatch had let him into their ranks, respected his skill, his knowledge, and his boundaries. He didn’t feel like a weapon as he had for his father or a pawn as he had for his mother . . . and they had taken care of Genji. 

Stripes of grey-blue clouds slid across the horizon, hiding the last of twilight’s glow. Above the columns of clouds, stars started to appear in the darkened sky. Venus showed especially bright. Hanzo combed his fingers through the long portion of his hair. It had been many years since he left it to grow out. It used to bring so many hard memories, days of old pain and happy memories turned sour from guilt. It had been a tradition to cut it short every year just as he had the first night after . . . but that was when Genji was dead to him. 

Overwatch had given him his brother back. Hanzo needed only that to respect them. But never had Hanzo imagined he’d be invited into their ranks. They knew what he was, what he had done . . . but they saw he was broken, and instead of discarding him as he felt he deserved, they had taken him in as well. Genji wasn’t the only one who needed to be pieced back together after that night . . . 

Jack Morrison hadn’t hesitated to let a former yakuza boss into his briefings. Reyes recognized his talent, even if he was reserved in his interaction. Ana and Amelie seemed glad just to have another sniper to work with. Even Angela, the very doctor who had given Genji his life back so many years ago had accepted Hanzo. Something the archer would not have every though possible. 

And then there was Jesse McCree; the ridiculous cowboy who seemed to look at danger as a challenge. He was the sort of person who liked to pet rattlesnakes and dogs after they had already bitten him. The sort of man who would flirt with a cold, ex-yakuza sniper just because he liked the sound of the man’s voice. What was one of the first things Jesse ever said to him? Hanzo closed his eyes as he thought back, he could imagine Jesse’s lopsided grin, _you can glare at me like that every day jus’ so long as I get to look at those pretty eyes._

The archer smiled to himself as he absently rubbed his hands over his recently shaven undercut. He had let it grow too long and ragged without his lover around to pet it. His mind drifted over Jesse, wondering if the two of them could comfortably fit together on the bed. He chuckled in his throat, _Jesse would find a way,_ even if it meant sweating through the night with their bodies pressed together. 

In the darkening twilight, Hanzo felt a different heat coil up through his core. It had been a _long_ time since he’d seen his silly, loving, sweet cowboy. Jesse’s scouting mission had required complete radio silence as he literally roomed with the man he was watching. He had done his job, and had kept that silence. Two months without so much as a word . . . 

Hanzo let out a long breath as he sunk deeper into the cushions. That would all change tomorrow, that would at least have one day to themselves. His skin prickled with the evening heat, _one day would not be enough . . ._ but that was better than nothing. 

With a long sigh, Hanzo ran his hands over his face. If the timing had been better they might have had this weekend to themselves, but no such luck. Hanzo wasn’t even sure it was a relief that they would be spending this mission together. To be so close to his lover, yet so afraid to reach out and touch him . . . Hanzo wanted time to be close to Jesse without worrying about drawing attention to them. He still wasn’t ready for anyone to know about them, he still hadn’t told Genji . . . what would he tell his brother? Would it be alright that Hanzo was dating one of Genji’s closest friends? 

Not just a friend, _an ex._

Hanzo’s gut twisted at the reminder. His brother had welcomed him back after ten years of living with the fact that Hanzo had lifted his sword against him. Genji believed he was redeemable, but . . . there were so many times Hanzo feared that the dream would end. That Genji would wake up and remember who it was that made him a cyborg . . . Even if Genji never said it, Hanzo was sure there were lines that weren’t supposed to be crossed. Jesse was sure to be one of them, even if the cowboy wouldn’t admit it. Jesse was a hopeless romantic, but Hanzo couldn’t afford to be.

Hanzo sat up, swinging his metal legs around, the bed creaking as it rocked. He propped his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be in love, it always seemed so torturous to him. But then he had lived far from a normal, comfortable life, why should his love life be any different? Why should he be permitted anything more?

The clouds were almost blended into the dark sky now, stars shown all across the dark mantle above. Hanzo stepped off the covered portion of porch, closing the screen door behind him. He knew he would be beset by insects, but he wanted to look up at the whole of the sky. Hanzo should have gone in and prepared something to eat, but he didn’t think he could stomach much at the moment. 

Why was it right when he grew most excited about seeing Jesse that he suddenly started doubting it was worth it? Worth risking this delicate friendship he had rekindled with his brother. Worth getting the suspicion and ire of his new team. Hanzo had only been with Overwatch for three years, but wasn’t he still an interloper? Would they think he was trying to win the favor of one of their original team? Reyes tolerated him, certainly, but how would he feel with a former crime lord courting his adopted son? The time he had spent with Overwatch were the best years he could remember, this past year especially. He didn’t want to risk that. He was happy for once . . . _it was your best year because of Jesse._

Hanzo rested his crossed arms on the railing, facing out over the almost invisible marsh. The noise of insects hadn’t dimmed now that the sun was set. A soft breeze brushed over his chest, stirring his drying hair. _Jesse is worth it,_ a part of him murmured from the depths, but that just brought on new pains. Hanzo should have kept to himself, shouldn’t have offered, shouldn’t have asked – Hanzo dug his nails into his arms, focusing on their sting. 

_‘It ain’t about deservin’, it’s all about what someone’s willin’ to give.’_

Remembering Jesse’s words managed to sooth the archer. The cowboy could have said no, but he hadn’t. Could have changed his mind, only he didn’t. Hanzo could . . . but the archer couldn’t let him go . . . 

Hanzo was woken from his thoughts by a spark of light on to horizon. As he watched, a flower of bright red light bloomed and died in a moment. Soon more followed, the bright light leavening faint after-images on his eyes. _Fireworks?_

They were too far away to be heard, but someone was shooting off fireworks out over the ocean. Bright bursts of greens, blues, then purple and red, they must look incredible up close. Hanzo couldn’t help a private smile. Of course the Americans would already be celebrating; one day of fireworks was not enough to commemorate their independence. Jesse loved it all. The gaudy peasantry of it, flags everywhere; on government buildings, paper plates, bikinis and beach towels. The cheap beer beside exquisite barbecue, the brilliant light displays. 

Hanzo could already imagine the cowboy whooping to the sky, waving his hat around as fireworks boomed overhead, drowning out his voice. The light outlining his hefty frame, glowing in his eyes as he grinned . . . he had looked so besot with childish wonder, as if this was the first time. Hanzo remembered the weight of Jesse’s arm around his shoulder, their breaths misting in the chill night air as Jesse gazed up at the fireworks, while Hanzo looked lovingly up at him . . .

Hanzo would hold on to this secret, let himself enjoy this a little while longer without the fear of some cosmic punishment. He was sure it would come. All the best things in his life eventually came to an end, some violently, some just fading quietly into the night; it was all part of the ebb and flow of his life. He shouldn’t focus on the bad; just enjoy each moment while they lasted. 

Genji’s mischievous grin as Hanzo shared a witty comment only they could understand. His brother laughing until he was gasping, then laughing some more. Genji leaning against him on the dropship, drifting off like when they were children taking the train home. Hanzo falling asleep to the soft murmur of Morrison’s voice as he sat with Ana on watch, leaving the archer feeling safe and protected for the first time in years. Jesse edging closer to whisper a dirty joke in a smoky bar. The cowboy leaning over his guitar, his eyes close, his expression serine as he played a smooth melody. Jesse’s breathless laughter as he lay on his back, smiling sleepily up at Hanzo after they made love. Sitting across from him as Jesse read one of his books, sliding his fingers through Hanzo’s just to feel him there, and always putting his book down to take a sip of coffee so he wouldn’t have to let go of his lover’s hand. 

Hanzo looked up at the stars. He was sticky with sweat and humidity, and he could feel the bites already itching on his skin, but he was loath to go back indoors. On lonely night like this, Hanzo was afraid to go to bed; certain he would wake up from this dream. He murmured a soft plea to whatever forces worked in the heavens. 

_“Please, just a little longer . . .”_


	2. In which Hanzo's morning is a considerable improvement to his sleepless night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo knows he should see Jesse sometime during the day, but _when_ is answered with a surprisingly early phone-call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad I've finally posted this for you all, I've been poking at it for a while, never quite sure if I've gotten it right. At this point I'm just happy to have something to post!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Though the sun had barely risen above the edge of the trees, the air was already thick with humidity and the sounds of birds chirping over the constant drone of insects. A milky dawn shown through the tatters of thin clouds across the sky, giving just enough light for Hanzo to see by as he crouched on the beach-house's front porch. He felt weary from poor sleep, unable to really rest with his mind running wild with remembered sensations of his lover. He never knew why it was that he could go weeks of waiting in a comfortable rhythm to have it shattered when Jesse was only a day away. 

He had finally given up sleeping all together and packed to leave for the monitoring station early. On the top of the steps he made one last check through his backpack. The Drones were stacked together securely, the one that had been acting up replaced by a new one. His thermos was adequately sealed, and his little bento box lunch was sitting upright at the bottom of the bag. He had his tablet and com-link, and bow and quiver. All correct and accounted for.

Hanzo shouldered the bag and rubbed his hands over his face. Already he could feel sweat beading at his hairline. He had a feeling it was going to be an especially hot day. Tucking his quiver beside the pack, and hanging his bow over his shoulder next to it, he started down the white-washed steps. 

Like all the beach-houses in this area of the coast, theirs stood a whole story off the ground on think, timber stilts. The wood was tinted a strange blue-green from the chemical treatment that kept the wood from rotting in the incessant humidity and sea water. Hanzo knew they had already survived the waves that came crashing in during the hurricane season. 

Hanzo walked down the boardwalk alongside the house, its wood already grey though it couldn't be more than a few years old. Little dark crabs scuttling away from the low thump of his steps. The dark marsh grasses swayed in the breeze that managed to tease its way past the dunes. It was strange to think all this beautiful landscape so regularly faced such aggressive storms, the sort that was almost debilitating to any other setting. 

Some things can be both resilient, and keep their beauty. _That we could all strive to emulate such grace . . ._ Hanzo mused. He took a deep breath, enjoying the salty musk of the wetlands.

His com-link buzzed at his hip. He was a little surprised to be receiving a call so early in the morning, though he realized with Gibraltar being six hours ahead of the East-coast, someone may have simple forgotten it was five in the morning for him. In a deft motion Hanzo slipped the com-link from his belt-loop and up to his ear.

"Agent Hanzo," he said, his voice a little husky from lack of use so early in the morning.

There was a low chuckled on the other end of the line that made the archer's breath catch in his throat. 

_"Howdy, darlin'_ , figured you'd already be up and kickin'."

"Jess - you're - you're up early!" The words came tumbling from his mouth, "When did you get off your mission? I assumed you couldn't make contact for _hours_ more." his pleasure must have been apparent because Jesse started laughing full out then. 

"Well I'd already been on the road a few hours, figured I could finally say hello."

"Already?" Hanzo murmured, stopping to look out over the marsh. When Winston had mentioned a six hour drive, Hanzo had hoped he would see his boyfriend by that evening, maybe late afternoon at the soonest. 

"Of course, babe! I couldn't _sleep_ I was so excited to see you, got packed and headed off as soon as I could." Jesse did sound a little tired, but also so contented, so pleased. 

"Neither could I . . . I'm so glad, Jesse." Hanzo breathed, leaning against the boardwalk railing, a little overwhelmed. Maybe it was the lack of breakfast or the heat, but he felt dizzy suddenly. He cleared his throat, "When should I be expecting you?"

"I guess around noon?" Jesse mused, then yawned loudly into the com-link, "It depends how many pit-stops I have to take; the gas-station coffee's not doin' me much good, an’ I swear I’ve gotten stuck behind every wide-load truck from here to Pensacola, so it may be a long drive, but I’m guessin’ I’ll be there in three? Four hours?"

Hanzo chewed his lip, "That soon?"

"What's the matter, honey-bee, you don't want to see me?" Jesse pleaded, though his whine was purely for show.

"No-no, Jess, I just don't have much food to offer for lunch, save for some of my leftovers."

"Babe, if it's your cookin' that'll be more than enough for me." Jesse cooed over the com, "Or maybe I'll just come grab ya, and take you someplace nice. It's been a long time since I've gotten to treat you right." 

"Jesse . . ." Hanzo purred, both embarrassed and charmed. "I don't know any restaurants out here, there may not even be any on the island as far as I'm aware."

"Don't worry about it, sweet-pea, I'd find us a nice place." Jesse laughed, "Though . . ." his voice dropped as he crooned to his boyfriend, "I imagine we'll be a little too _busy_ to be worryin' about lunch when I get there."

Hanzo let out a slow breath as his chest throbbed as he absorbed the less-than subtle implication. The humid heat of the day was suddenly stifling. "Oh?" was all he said. 

"I got half a mind to lay you down and put my hands _all over you_ , got to make sure I remember everythin’," Jesse teased.

Hanzo shifted like he could already feel the cowboy's wide hands on him, and groaned in his throat, biting his lip to try and keep it to himself. " _I see_." he murmured.

"An' maybe . . . follow with kisses and - I don't know - I want to fuck you every-which-way, but I'm too beat to pick one."

"'Every way?'" Hanzo's brow quirked at the thought. 

Jesse cackled, "Don't know what to think of that, do ya? Jus' sayin' I'm open to tryin' a lot of things. Though, much as I love teasin' you blue in the balls, I really called just to - ah - give you a heads up." His tone shifted and the teasing confidence was replaced by embarrassment. Hanzo's brow furrowed.

"What's wrong, Jesse? Has something happened?"

"No - no, nothin's _happend_ , jus’ that I'll look a little different. Didn't want to startle ya, I know how you don't like surprises."

Hanzo sighed. Naturally, coming strait back from an undercover mission, Jesse would still look his part. The last mission Jesse had returned from he had been sporting a beard almost as long as Tabjorns and fake tattoo's of naked women that took weeks to fade away. It had not been a fun first date. 

"What is different this time?" Hanzo asked begrudgingly. 

Jesse cleared his throat, "Well, it ain't as bad as _last_ time - you might even like it - I've been workin' out and dyed my hair." He didn't sound especially convinced, himself. 

Though suspicious, Hanzo couldn't help finding Jess's soft embarrassment charming. Or maybe it was just because it was Jesse. He always _did_ find that silly cowboy charming. 

"What color?" He chuckled.

"It's on the light side, but mostly natural." the cowboy said carefully.

"Please say it isn't green,"

" _Hell_ nah! Nothin' like that." Jesse barked. 

Hanzo laughed heartily at that, settling his crossed arms against the railing and turned his grin towards the slight breeze. It was enough to start cooling the sheen of sweat on his neck. There was a long pause before the cowboy continued.

"It's jus' . . . blond."

"You don't sound sure." Hanzo chuckled.

"Well if you decide ya don't like it I can dye it back." Jesse said, trying to sound defensive, but his tone was too sweet to carry any bite. 

" _Jesse_ ," Hanzo said gently, "I will be too overjoyed to have you back to mind too much about your hair." He shifted and spoke in the sultry way he knew Jesse liked, "And if I do find it unbecoming . . . _we can turn the lights off_." 

Jesse made that funny giggle he always did when Hanzo was the one leading the flirting. Like Jesse was still surprised that Hanzo was just as hot-blooded and lusty as he was. It made the cowboy sound like a teenager getting a hold of his first dirty magazine. The archer could even imagine that big stupid grin Jesse would have on his face.

" _You ridiculous man_ ," Hanzo chuckled.

"It's been a’while!" Jesse cried,

"I'm well aware," Hanzo chided, "this forced abstinence was not limited to you."

"At least you had a place you could jerk-off; the walls of my room were too thin for that, and I _swear_ that fuck-hole didn't sleep!" 

Hanzo couldn't help laughing, though he tried to smother it for Jesse's sake. "I'm so sorry, Jess, I can't promis you'll have much privacy once the team arrives, but until then I'll do my best to make up for lost time."

"If you don't, I sure will," the cowboy purred.

Hanzo leaned his cheek against his hand, letting his eyes rove the marsh. He sighed knowing that the morning would only get more miserably hot the longer he waited. 

"Jesse, I need to leave you now, there's still a lot of work to do before you arrive."

The cowboy groaned like his lover's words had wounded him. "But I've got so much driving to do, ya sure you can't stick around? Ya'know there's no company I'd prefer to yours. I'll make it worth your while." He added suggestively.

"You will make it hard to concentrate you mean." Hanzo smiled knowingly, "and if I don't complete my tasks before you arrive you'll have to sit around while I work on Athena's AI hub, reposition the spider sentries, take my shower -"

"I can join you for the last one." Jesse offered.

Hanzo hummed in his throat as though he was considering the offer. He felt his cheeks redden as he replied, "As nice as that would be, I would rather skip to the sex." 

"Oh-my!" Jesse huffed, caught off guard by Hanzo's unusually bold declaration. "In that case, I guess I'll let you go and be productive or what-have-you . . . I just missed hearin' your voice, is all." He said it so gently and lovingly that Hanzo felt a part of his heart melt.

"And I have missed _all_ of you, my star," Hanzo cooed, "I can't wait to be in your arms again." 

"I'm gettin' there as fast as I can." Jesse chuckled.

Hanzo frowned, "Remember to drive _safely_ as well;" he said firmly, "I can't make love to you in a hospital bed."

"Now _there's_ a rollplay we ain't tried," Jesse chuckled.

" _Jesse . . ._ " Hanzo chided.

"I'm just kiddin', suger-tits."

Hanzo snorted at that, "Good _bye_ , cowboy."

"I'll see you soon, sweet-pea." 

Hanzo hummed in his throat, he preferred that name of endearment over 'suger-tits'. He wasn't even sure what that was supposed to mean. 

The com-link beeped and he was alone. When he unhooked the com-link from his ear the sound of insects seemed especially loud. Hanzo sighed, rolling the device back and forth between his hands. He couldn't help feeling sad even knowing he had been the one to call off the call, but it was quickly replaced with new anticipation. The day wouldn’t be as painfully long as he had expected, the archer only had to wait a few more hours until his lover would be in his arms again . . .

_Wait_. . . Hanzo pulled out his tablet to check the time, then hastily stuffed it back into the side pocket of his wind-breaker. Just those few hours might not be enough to get everything finished.

Hanzo tightened the straps on his backpack and broke into a jog. Shafts of sunlight were just starting to break through the tree branches, cutting gold ribbons across the marshlands. Even as a new sheen of sweat formed on his brow, the archer couldn’t help smiling. _Jesse was on his way . . ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I may have a small problem with italicizing, but I swear I could stop whenever I want to . . . I just don't want to.
> 
> Anyways, I always love to hear from everybody and anybody, seeing your guys' comments and responses make me feel like sharing this is really worth it! Unforunitly with me in graduate school, my time is much more limited, but when I can I do want to keep writing on this and other McHanzo ideas that have been spinning in my head the last year.
> 
> To get a few tastes of what head-cannons I enjoy, and little writing samples, [check out my tumblr!](https://scutmanycoats.tumblr.com/)  
> (It's NSFW, I'm afraid, just because I have so many mature works, ^ ^')

**Author's Note:**

> I would say be gentle, but I really do want to hear what everyone thinks; good, bad, and ugly! I'm actively looking for bata readers and I like talking with people and honestly need more socialization.
> 
> This story was really brought around because of a beach trip I just got back from. The environment, the marsh, the beach house, were all so wonderful I wanted a way to sort of immortalize the sensations of being there, and the rest of the story just followed suit. 
> 
> And there may even be some art in the future, depends on how much time I have between writing. <3  
> [Come check out my tumblr for writing snippets and chat with me about stuff!](https://scutmanycoats.tumblr.com/)  
> EDIT: First art piece! [Just a copic color sketch, I hope to do a digital piece with better colors later.](https://www.instagram.com/p/BlZfrp2hVIl/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link)  
> 


End file.
